Even before the first medal has been contested in the London Olympics it appears that Great Britain has already been crowned champions in one activity. According to a NY Times article we are a nation that enjoys ‘low-grade grousing’ at the best of times and has taken this skill to a new level as a consequence of having the Olympics thrust upon us, with all the resulting pain that being a host involves.

I can’t help feeling a strange sense of British pride when I read this article. It’s hard to dispute too much of what the author of the article Sarah Lyall states. Yes many of us do fear the worst when it comes to London’s transport system falling apart when the world is watching. And we do shake our heads in resignation and wonder how the embarrassing shambles surrounding the Games security could have been allowed to happen. Ask people living in and around London and it’s easy to believe the majority can’t wait for the whole thing to be over so that normal service can resume (with all its usual grumbles).

So why the feeling of pride in our reputation of being among the world’s best moaners? Is it just a case of us seeing the glass as half empty?

I’m quite happy to live in a country where we absorb our news with a healthy pinch of salt and where the words of politicians, journalists, brand managers and marketeers are treated with the suspicion they generally deserve.

To a large extent the London Olympics have been hijacked by people (to be more precise, corporations) who don’t inspire any form of goodwill or happiness. It is sad that the organisers of the Games appear to have taken every opportunity to talk about ‘protecting the sponsors’ brands’ at the expense of the public. That the most visible impact of those brands’ presence will be an inability to buy proper chips or use a universally accepted credit card within the Olympic venues sends out a very negative signal.

This was not how it was meant to be, although perhaps we were naive to ever think it would be otherwise. Hopefully public reaction will ensure that those brand names, so carefully protected, are tarnished as a result of their spiteful behaviour.

Yet come the start of the sport I suspect most of those enjoying a good gripe will get drawn into the excitement of the action. For a few days we’ll pretend to know our keirin from our omnium, our épée from our sabre and our air pistols from our skeets. Our life-long ignorance about minority sports will be momentarily interrupted before we quickly slump back into complete indifference.

Will this enthusiasm be a result of the insincere cries of encouragement given out by discredited public figures? Not in the slightest. Will it be down to the massive advertising campaigns by the sponsors? No, it will be despite of their hypocritical and hollow messages.

Whatever the cock-ups with ticketing, security and inevitably transport, most of us will enjoy the London Olympics in our own way. Just don’t expect us to look happy while we’re doing it.

Many blog entries, particularly photo posts, are designed to inspire others to visit a particular place. This one is a definite exception. No tourist is likely to being visiting Aleppo anytime soon. As I heard the depressing news from Syria I looked back at my photos of our trip there in 2009. Our happy memories are now tinged with sadness and fear for the city and its people.

At the time of writing Aleppo stands on the brink. The destruction of the city and the massacre of its civilian population is widely predicted. It may be a long time before tourists can ever visit Aleppo again and when they do, it may look very different to how it does in these photos. No-one can say what will happen to Aleppo but it’s reasonable to fear the worst.

Recent visits to Sarajevo and Cambodia remind me that places do emerge from the other side of hell and people eventually become neighbours again with their recent mortal enemies. The tragedy is that the lessons of these horrors are not learned and the cycle of bloodbaths around the world continue.

So I give you a selection of pictures from the city of Aleppo, taken in happier times. I hope the city’s inhabitants are soon again able to offer tourists the warm welcome we enjoyed and for which we remain grate

Taking an underground tour is hardly an unusual experience these days. There are tours of sewers, bomb shelters, abandoned train lines and natural caves in almost every major city. So what makes the 23 kilometres of tunnels known as the Casemates of Luxembourg different and worthy of special attention?

For a start there’s the age of this network of roughly carved passages. Most were built in the 17th century by the Spanish, who at the time were masters of Southern Netherlands (which included Luxembourg). Since the tunnel’s construction Luxembourg has ‘welcomed’ Italian, Belgian, French, Austrian, Dutch and Prussian troops. All made use of the defensive strengths of the casemates and most made adaptations or extensions that can still be seen today.

Wander down the narrow corridors of the casemates beneath one of Europe’s smaller states and you’ll be faced with facts that appear impossible to believe. How could they get horses down there and use them to transport supplies and weaponry to troops? How could 35,000 people have fitted in here when the tunnels served as a civil defence shelter during the two world wars? And perhaps most intriguingly, just how secure are the Bank of Luxembourg’s vaults, found behind the locked entrance to the casemates deep under the bank itself?

A quick look at a map of Luxembourg will reveal a sharply winding river valley that has formed the city’s famous central gorge. This meant that one focal point for establishing the city’s defences would never be adequate and indeed there are two sets of casemates, each with its own network of tunnels and look-out points. Both are open to the public (€4 entry for each casement).

At the Casemates of Pétrusse you must take a 40 minute guided tour as you climb 450 steps from the city centre to the bottom of the river gorge and back again through a maze of stairwells, storage rooms and make-shift shelters. There is even an original 1834 cannon in position by an opening in the rocks, left behind by Prussian troops when they moved on.

You can make your own way around the Bock Casemates at the other end of the city. The entrance to the underground tunnels is also the site of the 10th castle built by the city’s founder Count Siegfried (although there is ample evidence to show that a Roman settlement had existed here long before Siegfried came along). The Bock Casemates even play host to a series of theatre productions, played out in one of the larger and lighter rooms carved within the giant rocks.

On a superficial level the casemates offer a great place for children (and adults) to get lost along narrow stone corridors and enjoy fabulous views across the Pétrusse river valley. Their real marvel however lies not in what you can see, but in spotting the various clues that hint at what must have gone on in this underground maze back in the 17th century and even in the last 100 years.

Ask people where they want to go on their European holidays and if they’re not heading to the beaches of the Mediterranean they’ll most likely tell you about Paris, London, Barcelona or Venice. Some may head east to Prague, Krakow or Budapest. Yet despite being the most populous European country (excluding Russia) Germany hardly ever gets a mention.

It does appear that Germany is something of a forgotten country in terms of European tourism and while the main tourist spots in the country can get crowded it is still largely ignored by the millions of tourists visiting Europe each year. I also plead guilty: I spent a few days in Germany last month and this was my first trip there for 20 years. So why should Germany be worthy of a closer look when planning a European trip?

Historical sights

If you like exploring castles you’ll be spoilt for choice in Germany. There’s Neuschwanstein Castle, the most famous castle of all and the inspiration for Disney’s fairytale castles (it is to here that it seems every tourist in Germany heads). But venture along the Rhein and you’ll find many more splendid castles with far fewer visitors. And these are the best type of castles – ones where you can both scramble around the ruins and explore the interior, decorated to reflect life in the building’s heyday.

Then there are the medieval walled cities along the Romantic Road in Bavaria. We visited Nördlingen, a delightful city with the wall fully encircling its perimeter. The 3km walk along the full circumference of the wall would be heaving with tourists anywhere else, yet here on a Saturday in July we barely saw another tourist as we strolled around.

The Great Outdoors

It’s easy to imagine Germany as dominated by its major cities, yet the country probably offers some of the finest hiking and cycling in Europe. Whether we were walking in the Alpine hills above Neuschwanstein or along the Rheinsteig (a long distance trail that follows the Rhein through the winelands between Bonn and Wiesbaden), we found well-marked trails, welcoming rest stops and once again, very few fellow visitors.

Value for Money

The Euro may be used in most of Europe but having the same currency does not equate to having the same prices. Compared to most of its neighbours Germany is surprisingly cheap for the average traveller. As in many countries prices are cheaper outside of the big cities and a pizza and beer is not likely to cost you more than €10 (not that I’m recommending this as a daily diet).

Travel is reasonable too, with Deutsche Bahn offering some fabulous train tickets. Most regions have a day pass where a group of you can travel on any bus or train within that region for a single cheap fare. We paid €26 for two of us to travel freely around Bavaria (the size of Ireland). If there are more of you the deal becomes ridiculously cheap.

In a few paragraphs I can barely scrape at the surface of what Germany offers  and I’ll add a few of our adventures here in the coming weeks.  But as someone who was genuinely surprised at how much I enjoyed my first proper visit here, I certainly recommend anyone planning a European trip to give Germany a closer look.

Useful sites if you’re thinking of a German trip (I used these myself while planning):

Germany is Wunderbar – a nicely presented site full of handy tips and trivia

Romantic Road Germany - good descriptions of the many places along the Romantic Road

Easy Hiker – Michael and Marlys are hiking enthusiasts and offer some valuable information for those planning to explore Germany on foot

It is the world’s oldest republic and arguably has the continent’s worst national football team. San Marino is well worth a visit if you are making a visit to Italy’s Adriatic coast. My article about San Marino on theBBC Travel site was published in August (here for UK folks), but I thought I’d share a few pictures from this very agreeable hilltop nation.

I’d have trouble counting the number of different hotels I’ve stayed in, but I would guess the total is somewhere around 700, give or take a hundred or so. Most have been entirely forgettable: a bed for the night, a room along a dreary corridor, a passport handed over for copying, a credit card swiped for the extras. Would you like help with your bags? Did you take anything from the minibar? Breakfast between 7 and 10. A repetitive, comforting if monotonous drill.

Yet among that mass of uniform mediocrity a few places stand out; places where I would stay again without a moment’s hesitation if I was back in the neighbourhood. Here are three of my favourite hotels that spring to mind instantly:

We arrived in Oaxaca at 8am after a horrible overnight 11 hour bus journey. Far too early to check in, but we hoped the guest house would at least allow us to drop off our bags. As soon as we explained our early arrival we were invited into the dining room and offered coffee and a full breakfast (on the house). While we ate our room was prepared for us and by 9.30 we had our key and were able to unpack and wash. The room was simple, clean and bright, while the owners were only too willing to offer help when asked but otherwise kept a low profile, allowing us to feel at home in their home.

We booked this guest house on the strength of its Tripadvisor rating (by no means a foolproof strategy) back in early 2007. Run by a young couple who had been travellers and wanted to welcome people as they would want to be welcomed, I still remember the little touches that made this place different. No filling out the registration forms at the desk; instead we were given the key immediately and then were able to complete the formalities with glass of complimentary wine in hand when we were ready to do so. Again, very helpful without any intrusion. The large comfortable room and magnificent views across the Beagle Channel helped a lot in making this a memorable stay.

I hesitate to include this as we were hosted for our stay, but I am convinced that our experience would have been the same regardless of the nature of our visit. The room was comfortable and the setting a short walk from the coast perfect, but what made this place stand out again was the service. From the warm welcome to the help with arranging reservations at local restaurants, the owners and their staff were only too willing to help. It was a place where you could easily relax and where requests were dealt with (and remembered) without any feeling of intrusion.

What do these places have in common? In each one the most memorable aspect of our stay was the service. Not the door opening, bag carrying, valet parking kind of service, but the genuine willingness to make people feel at home and the awareness that it’s all about the guests, not about them. All are relatively small properties (with no more than a dozen or so rooms) and in each case it is the owners of the hotel/guest house that are the face of the business.

Some might argue that it’s only business owners who can display that passion for service, that insight into treating a guest in the way they would wish to be treated if they were visiting; but I’m not convinced. Great service, for me at least, requires the ability to put yourself in your guests’ shoes and offer them the service that you yourself would appreciate. And that’s the tough bit, because each of us has a different view on what we would class as great service. I’m glad I don’t run a hotel.

With barely a soul in the first class carriage I figured the three hour journey would be a good chance to get some work done. I had just spent two days in the rural backwaters of eastern Poland to research a couple of articles and was returning to Warsaw in time to catch an evening flight back to London. Feeling pleased with my research I’d treated myself to an upgrade (an additional £4).

Just before the train set off from Bialystok an elderly man entered my carriage. I lifted my gaze from my laptop to exchange greetings before returning to my writing, while my fellow passenger contented himself enjoying the view from the window.

For an hour I tapped away at my keyboard, briefly glancing up from time to time to enjoy the slowly changing landscape. Marshlands, wide rivers, storks on telegraph poles, large birds hovering above their prey waiting for the moment to pounce; scenes that haven’t changed much for several generations and which make this area so popular with hikers, bikers, kayakers and birdwatchers.

All the while the man sat silently, staring out of the window and smiling to himself. He was dressed in his suit and carried a briefcase which he kept close to his side throughout the journey. I wondered where he was carrying something valuable or whether it was me, the stranger with the funny accent, who was making him nervous. I put my laptop down eventually, unable to concentrate due to a combination of a lack of sleep and the repeated jolting of the train.

We exchanged the occasional glance, the old man and I, but no words were spoken. I’ve never been good at starting conversations with strangers; by all accounts many people suffer with the same affliction, leading to these long pointless silences where both sides would welcome the distraction of a conversation but none is willing to break the ice.

So it was in this case. As we approached Warsaw East I picked up my bag. It was then that one of us, I don’t remember who, made a quip about the late running of the train. The man snorted, saying that the train is always late and that the Polish railways are an embarrassment to the country. I told him I would get out and walk across the river to visit the recently opened Chopin museum. He laughed dismissively, telling me that I was wasting my time in such a poorly designed place.

He asked what I was doing in Poland and when I told him I was working as a travel writer he instinctively waved his hand in a mocking gesture, bemoaning the fact that so many people write about Poland but none of them are brave enough to get to the root of the country’s problems. He worked out that I was from England and launched into a diatribe about the Poles leaving their home country to work in the UK, wasting the education for which the Polish taxpayer had paid.

Name a subject and he would have found a reason to moan. As I got off the train I breathed a sigh of relief that our conversation had only started 5 minutes before our arrival into Warsaw. Perhaps starting conversations with strangers on a train isn’t always as rewarding as it’s cracked up to be.

The two stories I was in the region to research:

Poland’s Stork Village - how one farmer in Poland has created the perfect habitat for nesting storks – for National Geographic Traveller

On the Tatar Trail in Poland (for Travel by Handstand, available only via iPad app) – a tale of two tiny Muslim communities, descendants of the Tatars who blazed through Europe in the middle ages.

For long unknown to all but an intrepid few travellers, the Alentejo region of Portugal is getting a lot of media attention in the last couple of years. So it might surprise you that you’re likely to find very few other tourists on a visit to the region, even in the main towns. Whether you’re sniffing out the vineyards, exploring the white-washed villages or wandering along the spectacular coastline you’re likely to have the Alentejo pretty much to yourself.

I travelled here with my wife in September as part of my ongoing work with Sunvil, who hosted my trip. I’ll be writing about our experiences in Portugal on the Sunvil blog - you can take a look there over the next few months to read various Alentejo stories. The first post is about Aldeia da Luz – a remarkable story of a village that moved.

But for now, here are a few photos from our visit that show off the best of the Alentejo region: